Reflections
by curiouslyobsessed
Summary: Warning: Major Character Death. This story is about a time where the Joker met Batman on the roof. Unanswered questions and a bit of sadness


nvited him there that night. For once the man's bright red smile was not as wide, not as menacing. It was rather a more melancholic smile that greeted the Caped Crusader that night. Well as melancholic a smile can be coming from the Clown Prince of Crime.

"What do you want?", the Batman growled. Somehow, something felt different about the maniacal genius before him that night. Just that for the life of him, he could not tell what. There was no reply from the green-haired man, except walking right past the Bat and standing close to the edge of the building - eyes gazing into the deep night sky. After a moment of silence the Joker said, "Batsy, I wanted to tell you goodbye."

"Join me here Batsy, it's cold tonight." Batman walked over to the pale man's side cautiously. He had learnt too many times, the hard way that he could never really let his guard down near the Joker. Said man released a shaky sigh. "You see Bats, I'm going to die. Actually, I am dying." Batman felt his eyes widening in surprise. A pair of bright eyes swivelled round to look at him. "Don't look at me that way Batsy. Don't look at me like you're going to miss me. You always told me how much you hated me right?" Swaying slightly, the pale man took a step closer to the masked one. It took the latter some self-restraint not to put a steadying hand on the former's shoulder. "I'm sick Batman. I'm very sick. I would just like to go with the thought that throughout all this times, I meant something to you. I miss those times, where we would chase each other on rooftops. I really do." The monologue was punctuated with small, stifled coughs. "Now I can't even summon the strength to do a light jig." It did not escape Batman how the Joker kept trying to pull his thin jacket ever tighter around his slim torso. The only thing is, it really wasn't cold.

Hesitantly, he asked, "What... What happened?" A tear trickled down the Joker's cheek as he set his eyes heavenward. My body can no longer keep up with my mind. That was all the answer he got. There was a dull ache in Batman's chest. In a way, it pained him almost physically to see the Joker this way. The maniacal, diabolical mastermind he always knew, the one always so full of life was dying right in front of him. They were two sides of the same coin, the Joker could not exist without the Batman and the Batman always wondered what he would do when the Joker no longer was there. The Joker's legs gave way and he fell, fell into his enemy's waiting arms. As he felt himself slowly get lowered to the ground by the man he had on so many occasions sought to kill, it finally occurred to him that this really was the end.

Batman looked down at the man lying in his arms, subconsciously leaning into the body heat that escaped through the body armour. He looked into the eyes of the man that he thought was inhuman, though was evil and could only see the spark of life start to dim. The Joker struggled to raise the upper part of his body and managed to get his green locks on Batman's shoulder. From there, he placed a chaste kiss on the unmasked portion of Batman's cheek.

Goodbye Bruce, he whispered. Goodbye, Bruce.

Then he was gone, forever. Bruce removed his cowl and gazed down at the now lifeless man in his arms as if seeing him for the first time. There were so many questions running through his head. What really happened to the Joker? When did he find out his identity? Why didn't he tell anyone else? How could he just die? Why, why did Bruce feel so lost all of a sudden? Bruce realised that even though he was reluctant to admit it, he would miss the Joker. They were both creatures of the night, they were both able to understand the mindsets of the other. Bruce gently lay the body of the Joker down onto the roof of the building and used gauntleted hands to close the eyelids that will never open again. His own cape was use to cover the Joker, the intense darkness of it contrasting starkly against the bright and colourful outfit donned by the madman. One last look and the shadowy figure disappeared from the roof.

About half an hour later, Bruce arrived back into the Batcave, giving Alfred a slight start. Seeing the haunted look on his charge's face, Alfred asked, "Master Bruce, where have you been? Are you alright?" Bruce sat down heavily in the chair in front of his observations screen, watching the silent streets of his city flash before his eyes. "Alfred, please help me cancel my appointments for tomorrow. I'll be staying in for tonight... Tonight, the Crown Prince of Crime has died."


End file.
